What’s in a Name?

Key Scripture

Scripture Focus: Daniel 1; 3; 6:1–24

What’s in a Name?

Names Then and Now

In our modern culture, names often function as little more than labels. They distinguish us on a roster or a form, but they rarely carry deep meaning. I remember a season when it seemed like every other girl was named “Linda”—a popular name, but not one tied to destiny.

In the Old Testament, names were different. They were weighty.
A name could be a sentence, a prayer, even a prophecy. It declared identity, character, and calling. Children grew up knowing who they were by knowing what their name meant—and who their God was.

What we do often flows from who we believe ourselves to be.
Identity shapes destiny.

Consider the names of Daniel and his friends (Daniel 1:5–7):

• Daniel — “God is my Judge” (and therefore his Deliverer)
• Hananiah — “The LORD is gracious”
• Mishael — “Who is like God?”
• Azariah — “The LORD is my helper”

Notice this: their names say more about God than about them.
Their worth and identity were rooted not in performance, but in who God is.

Babylon’s Renaming Strategy

These four young men—likely no older than fifteen—were taken into Babylon, the cultural and spiritual center of a pagan empire. God placed them there as witnesses, not by force or rebellion, but by faithfulness.

The first thing Nebuchadnezzar did was rename them.

Satan understands identity. He knows that if he can redefine who we are, behavior will follow.

• Belteshazzar — “Under the authority of Bel”
• Shadrach — “Under the command of Aku”
• Meshach — “Who is like Sheshach”
• Abednego — “Servant of Nego”

Isn’t it striking that we often remember their Babylonian names instead of their God-given ones?

Yet despite what they were called, these men lived according to who they were. They refused to internalize the lie.

The Names We Accept

The same strategy is still at work.

“You’re worthless.”
“You’ll never change.”
“You’re a failure.”
“You’re unlovable.”

Sometimes the names sound flattering—status, success, comparison—but they still define us apart from God.

If we don’t know who we are in Him, we will accept almost any name offered.
And once we accept a name, we tend to live consistently with it—even when it destroys us.

Behavior modification alone never lasts.
Identity transformation does.

Your New Name in Christ

The Gospel announces something radical:
your old name has died.

In Christ, you are no longer defined by your past, your failures, or the labels others gave you. You now bear His Name.

• Christ lives in me
• Loved by God
• The righteousness of God
• Washed and redeemed
• Light of the world
• More than a conqueror

When we act out of step with this new identity, conviction rises—not as condemnation, but as confirmation. The discomfort proves something new has taken root.

They may call you many things.
But if they don’t use your true name, you don’t have to answer.

Reflection

What names has your past—or the world—tried to place on you?
Which ones have you quietly accepted?

What name does God speak over you in Christ—and how might living from that identity change the way you respond this week?

Takeaway Thought

You don’t live differently by trying harder—you live differently by remembering who you are.